The Uninvited
by RFK
Summary: Mayhem strikes an engagement party held in honor of Cole and Olivia. Set ten days following The Engagement News. AU Season 6. Conclusion posted!
1. Prologue

TITLE: THE UNINVITED AUTHOR: RFK SERIES: CHA RATING: PG-13 Adult language.  
SUMMARY: Mayhem strikes an engagement party held in honor of Cole and Olivia. Set ten days following "The Engagement News". AU Season 6.  
FEEDBACK: - Be my guest. But please, be kind.  
DISCLAIMER: The Charmed Ones and Cole Turner belong to Constance Burge, Brad Kern and Spelling Productions. The McNeills, Cecile Dubois, and other characters are, thankfully, my creations. 

"THE UNINVITED" by RFK

Prologue

A knock on the library door distracted Artemus from the map laid out on his desk. The powerful demon heaved a frustrated sigh and glanced up. "Yes?" he barked. "Who is it?"

"Prax, sir," a voice from behind the door answered. "Mr. Lloyd is here to see you."

Artemus immediately recognized the name of the Magan Corporation's senior attorney. The demon hoped that the mortal had some positive news regarding Mark Giovanni's property in Oakville. "Let him in."

Seconds later, Artemus' assistant ushered in a thirty-something human of medium height. His bland, good-looking features contrasted sharply with a pair of intelligent, gray eyes. "Good afternoon, Mr. Winslow," Cedric Lloyd greeted cheerfully. "I have some promising news."

The demon leaned back against his chair and stared at the attorney. "Promising?"

"About that plan I had for Magan Corporation to . . . acquire Mark Giovanni's Oakville property?" Lloyd sat in one of the chairs on the other side of the desk. "I think I may have found a judge who can help you." The attorney removed a brown, thick folder filled with documents and photographs from his briefcase. He placed it on Artemus' desk. "His name is William Bourgh, and he is a Federal judge for the th U.S. District Court, here in California. The . . . uh, information we had found on him is very interesting."

The demonic CEO opened the file. "Oh?" Then he began to read.

According to the material inside the brown folder, William Archer Bourgh had been born in San Francisco, on February 23, 1943. The folder also revealed that the judge had obtained a Master's Degree in Law from Stanford University in the late 1960s, and became employed by the prestigious law firm - Jackman and Carter (later, Jackman, Carter and Kline). Bourgh's involvement in local politics eventually led to an appointment as a Federal prosecutor for the Justice Department in the early 1980s. Ten years later, Bourgh became a Federal judge.

"Sounds like an upstanding citizen," Artemus commented. "Which leads me to wonder why you believe that he would be willing to help a corporation like Magan, with a history of lawsuits?"

Lloyd pointed at the file. "Check out the photographs. And Bourgh's credit report."

Artemus examined the file, once more. An amused smile quirked his lips. Apparently, William Bourgh had sunk into considerable debt, after years of spending away his family fortune. And judging by some of the file's photographs, Bourgh had not only been unfaithful to his wife of 28 years, he also possessed an interesting predilection for what humans would consider kinky sex. "Now, this is interesting!" Artemus exclaimed. He glanced up at his attorney. "Have you approached Mr. Bourgh with this information, yet?"

"Not yet. I wanted to show this to you, first," Lloyd replied. "I plan to offer him a way out of his credit debt, when he returns from his trip overseas in January. But if he proves to be difficult . . ."

"I'm sure that these photos will convince him to assist us," Artemus said, his smile still fixed on his face. "Excellent work, Mr. Lloyd."

The attorney preened, much to Artemus' amusement. "Thank you, sir."

Artemus continued, "By the time we're finished with Mr. Bourgh, the Giovanni property should be in my hands. And both Mr. Giovanni and his . . . attorney won't know what hit them."

"Speaking of Cole Turner," Lloyd commented, "I've just heard some interesting news."

His eyes fixed upon a photograph of William Bourgh and a young woman locked in a sexual position straight out of the KAMA SUTRA. "Oh? What news?" How on earth did Bourgh and his companion managed to assume this posi . . .?

"He's getting married. Cole Turner."

Lloyd's revelation jolted Artemus' attention from the pornographic photograph. The demon stared at his attorney. "Say that again?"

Obviously taken aback by his employer's intensity, Cedric Lloyd repeated his words. "Cole Turner. He's getting married."

"You don't say."

"Uh . . . yes," Lloyd continued nervously. "To . . . um, an old classmate of mine. Olivia McNeill. We . . . we went to law school, together."

His heart racing with unexpected anxiety, Artemus said, "So, Bel . . . Mr. Turner is getting married. Well, I hope that he has better luck with his second wife than he did with his first." Lloyd continued to stare at him. "Yes, I know all about his marriage to Ms. Halliwell."

The attorney nodded. "Yes sir. Uh, I guess I'll be contacting Mr. Bourgh in the near future. At the moment, he's on vacation in the Bahamas. According to his secretary, he should return right after the New Year."

A thin smile stretched Artemus' lips. "I suppose I can wait another month for you to put your plans into action." He returned the file to the attorney. "Please make a copy of this file for my assistant. And unless there is something else, you can go."

"Yes sir." Lloyd stuffed the file into his briefcase. Then he stood up. "Good afternoon, sir." He then turned on his heels and left the library.

Once the attorney had shut the library door behind, Artemus' anxiety overwhelmed him. Belthazor to marry the Aingeal Staff Bearer? In Cabariel's name! Tiresias had been right, after all!

During his twenty-year incarceration in the Stygian Abyss, Artemus had come across a fellow prisoner, who turned out to be a legend in the magical world. The legend in question happened to be the famous blind seer, Tiresias, who had angered Hera with his claim that women enjoyed sex nine times more than men. Apparently offended by the Tiresias' comment, the Greek goddess blinded him. Legend continued that Zeus had tempered his wife's angry act by bestowing the gift of prophecy.

Somehow, Tiresias had ended up in the Stygian Abyss, where he occupied a cell next to Artemus'. One night, the demon overheard the seer babble in his sleep about how a Power of Three would destroy the old leader of the demons, leaving the supernatural world in a state of unbalance. Tiresias also prophesized a union between a powerful human/daemon hybrid and a fire priestess - one that would save the angels' realm, help coronate a new demonic leader and restore the balance between good and evil.

When Artemus had first overheard Tiresias' prophecies, he immediately dismissed them as ravings of a delusional old man. Seven years after the seer's disappearance, a powerful warlock incarcerated in the Abyss, had told the daemon of a prophecy that foretold the death of the old Source at the hands of three witches - the Power of Three. At that moment, Artemus realized that Tiresias had been right and made the decision to escape from the trans-dimensional prison. With the help of a Stygian guard, the daemon discovered a portal to freedom. Once freed, he contacted his former assistant, Prax, and set about re-establishing his power within the weakened Khorne Order.

During the five-and-a-half years following his escape, Artemus had quietly regained control of the Khorne Order and created the Magan Corporation for the order's business dealings. He also hired a sorceress and antiquity dealer named Lin Bryant to find the legendary Erebor medallions. Then news came of the old Source's death at the hands of the Charmed Ones. Before he could make a claim to the Source's throne, he had learned about Belthazor becoming the new Source. Soon, more news followed. Three months later, the Charmed Ones had killed Belthazor, the old Seer and Belthazor's unborn child. Even worse, the Halliwells' whitelighter had ditched the Grimoire into a volcano. Without the book, no one could be crowned as the Source. 

After he had learned the news about the Grimoire, Artemus was just about to give up hope about ever becoming the Realm's new leader. Then an old wizard told him of an object located somewhere north of San Francisco. The exact area turned out to be on Mark Giovanni's Oakville vineyard in Santa Rosa County. From that moment on, Artemus dedicated his time toward two objectives - consolidating support and power to become the new Source and getting his hands on the Giovanni property. Although he seemed to be slowly reaching his first objective, the second has proven to be more elusive. Hopefully Mr. Lloyd's plan will finally enable him to get his hands on the vineyard - and the object in question.

One major problem stood in Artemus' way - namely the powerful Belthazor. Even before the half-demon's return from the Wasteland, he had become a barrier to the older demon's plans. At first, Artemus had feared that Belthazor would resume control of the Source's Realm with his new powers. When that scenario failed to happen, Aretemus continued his own plans to become the new Source. Especially since the half-demon seemed more preoccupied with one of the Charmed Ones. But when Belthazor became involved with both Olivia McNeill and Mark Giovanni, Aretemus' anxiety had returned.

Thanks to Cedric Lloyd, he had finally stumbled across a solution to the Giovanni problem. But this latest development between Belthazor and his new witch made Artemus realize that Tiresias' prophecy about a human/daemon hybrid and a fire priestess might come true. Sooner or later, he would have to do something about the couple. And as his old mentor, Krug once told him - there was no time like the present.

Artemus reached for the cordless telephone and dialed a number. His assistant answered. "Prax," the demon barked into the phone. "I need to see you, at once. I need you to find someone." Then he disconnected the telephone and leaned back into his chair, as he waited for his assistant's arrival.

END OF PROLOGUE 


	2. Part I

"THE UNINVITED" by RFK

ACT I

"Not bad," Paige declared, as she glanced around the elegant room. She took a sip of her gingerale. "Although, this party could use some decent music."

Harry smirked. "By decent music, are you referring to Alanis Morissette? Aimee Mann or the Bare Naked Ladies? Don't forget that Mom and Dad are hosting this engagement party for Cole and Olivia - and they come from a different generation." He and Paige sat at one of the tables that filled the Colonial Room at the Westin St. Francis Hotel. "Besides, what's wrong with 'The Look of Love'? I've always liked Burt Bacharach."

"I'm not into Oldies. I like my music, contemporary."

With a sigh, Harry shook his head. "Sometimes Paige, I think you have no sense of history."

The music finally stopped. One of the many couples on the dance floor broke away and approached Paige and Harry's table. "Why aren't you two dancing?" Piper asked. She sat in the chair, next to Paige's.

Harry replied, "It seems Paige isn't into Oldies." He glanced up at Piper's companion. "So Scott, are you enjoying yourself?"

"Great party." Scott Yi shot a friendly smile at Piper. Who responded with one of her own. Earlier in the evening, Olivia had introduced other members of her squad to the Halliwells. Paige and Piper learned that one of them, Scott Yi, not only knew about the existence of magic, but was also a practitioner. A powerful sorcerer. Scott's eyes scanned the hotel ballroom. "What happened to sister number three?"

Piper replied, "Phoebe? She's in Hong Kong. With her boyfriend. And boss."

"Oh, Jason Dean." The two sisters stared at him. "I remembered him from the DeWolfe Mann case. He was always calling the station about an update. And Olivia has told me about him."

Paige added, "Yeah, well Phoebe had decided to stay with Jason for a while."

"Have you heard from her, yet?" Harry asked.

Piper sighed. "She called about three days ago. Apparently, she and Jason had just returned from some party aboard a . . . taipan's yacht."

Both Harry and Scott exchanged amused glances at Piper's mention of the word, "taipan". Still smiling, the red-haired witch commented, "Taipan, huh? Boy, she really must be turning native."

"Turning 'Chinese' would be more like it," Scott added. "I guess that usually happens when someone becomes exposed to a new culture for a period of time."

Paige rolled her eyes. "Tell me about it! Every time we have a conversation with her, Phoebe starts spouting Eastern philosophy. Really gets on my nerves." Aware of Scott's presence, she shot him an embarrassed glance. "Ooops! Sorry, no offense."

"None taken," Scott shot back. "Besides, I understand. I knew a guy who became a born-again Christian. I was happy for him, but unfortunately, he wouldn't stop talking about it."

Piper nodded. "Knowing Phoebe, I'm sure that she'll get over her philosophical musings, once she returns home for good."

A soft, Irish voice said, "Phoebe is out of town?" The three witches and the sorcerer glanced up and found Cole's mother looming before them. Paige could not help but admire the demoness' chic, powder-green cocktail dress and stylish haircut. Mrs. Turner regarded the quartet with observant, blue eyes. "I wondered why I didn't see her, this evening."

Piper coolly replied, "Phoebe is . . ." She paused and broke off - as if she realized that she had said too much.

"Phoebe is . . . where?" Cole's mother asked.

Scott added, "Actually, she's in Hong Kong." Ignoring the Charmed Ones' dark glances, he stood up and held out his hand. "How do you do? I'm a friend of the bride-to-be. My name is Scott Yi."

"Elizabeth Turner," the demoness replied, shaking the police inspector's hand. "Cole's mother." She turned her gaze upon Harry. "And you must be one of Olivia's brothers. I see the family resemblance."

Harry stood up and smiled politely. "Yes, I'm Harry McNeill, Olivia's younger brother. It's nice meeting you." He shook hands with the demoness.

Mrs. Turner continued, "So, Phoebe is in Hong Kong. How charming. She must be with that publisher companion of hers. Jason Dean?"

The two Charmed Ones regarded Cole's mother with surprise . . . and suspicion. "How did you know about Jason?" Paige demanded.

"Well, after meeting my former daughter-in-law, last summer, I took it upon myself to learn more about her. And you." Mrs. Turner gave the two sisters a bright smile. "After all, Bel . . . Cole used to be part of your family." She returned her attention to Scott. "Have you, by any chance, ever heard of a man named Yi Tse Lao? I believe that he once owned a pharmacy on Grant Avenue."

Scott nodded. "Uh, that would be my great-uncle. My grandfather's brother."

"Really? As I recall, Mr. Yi owned a most remarkable shop. His collection of herbs and other . . . medicines was most extensive."

Piper demanded, "Is there a reason why you're here?"

With eyes that reflected a lack of emotion, Mrs. Turner glanced at Piper. Paige found the demoness unsettling. Then she turned to Harry. "By the way, Mr. McNeill, I'm looking for your parents. There is . . . something I wish to discuss with them."

"Discuss what?" Paige asked.

The demoness coolly replied, "Something. It's for Cole and Olivia's engagement." Her eyes pierced Paige's. "Anything else?"

Feeling slightly embarrassed, Paige murmured, "No."

Harry added, "They were dancing not long ago. I, uh . . ." He scanned the ballroom. "Oh, there they are. Near the refreshment tables."

"Thank you, my dear. Ladies, gentlemen." Mrs. Turner flashed one last smile at the quartet and walked away.

"Whew!" Paige released a gust of breath. "That is one scary woman. I can't understand why your parents would invite her to this party."

Harry replied, "Because she happens to be Cole's mother. And this is a family affair."

"She's also dangerous," Piper added. "In fact, I don't think even Cole is comfortable about her being here."

With a shrug of his shoulders, Scott said, "He should have thought about that before he told her about his engagement." 

Harry stared at Paige. "I'm a little surprised that you would be against Mrs. Turner being here, considering that she had helped Olivia regain Cole's powers from that daemon."

"Did you really have to bring that up?" Paige retorted, still embarrassed over her part in that incident. "Besides, what Piper was trying to point out is that Cole's mom is a dangerous and powerful demon."

"Aren't we all dangerous? Good, evil, witch, demon, sorcerer or whatever . . . our powers make us dangerous. In fact, any kind of power can be dangerous if not used properly. Don't you agree?" Scott shot back.

Paige opened her mouth to retort. But past memories of Cole's problems with the Source and the incident regarding Darryl and the Valkyries led the Charmed One to hold her tongue.

Piper avoided answering Scott's question. Instead, she changed the subject, much to Paige's relief. "I wonder if Cole and Olivia's engagement is really on Nimue's mind?" she asked. "Or is there something else she might want to discuss?"

-------------------------- 

Nimue found her son's future in-laws standing near a refreshment table, while a uniformed attendant served them food. "Hello!" she greeted the couple. Her eyes briefly glanced at the spread before them. "I must say that this food is quite lovely."

"Yes, it is," Gweneth McNeill said with a nod. "Thomas Rimpel is a marvelous chef. He's one of the few here in San Francisco whom I consider first-rate."

Jack McNeill smiled politely at the demoness. "Here for a bite to eat?"

"Oh no." Nimue shook her head. "I've just finished eating about ten minutes ago. I'm stuff. Actually . . . I wanted to speak with you, regarding a private matter. I'll wait for you, at your table." She smiled once more and headed for an empty table.

A few minutes later, the McNeills joined her, carrying plates of food. Once they had sat down, Jack said, "So, what exactly can we do for you?"

Nimue smiled. "I just wanted to thank you for inviting me to this party."

"Well, you are Cole's mother."

"Of course." Nimue continued, "And as Olivia's parents, I would like to invite you to my own engagement party for her and Belthazor. In fact, your entire family is invited."

Gweneth frowned. "I didn't realize that you were living in San Francisco."

"Oh, I'm not. I own a townhouse in Boston. On Beacon Hill." Nimue hesitated. "However, I don't plan to hold the party there. I . . . Have you ever heard of the Melora dimension?"

A gasp escaped from Gweneth's mouth. Her husband and Nimue stared at her. "Gwen?" Jack said. "You've heard of this place?"

"I only went there once," the redheaded witch replied. "When I was nineteen. Bloody gorgeous, it was. Melora is regarded as some kind of sanctuary from any conflicts between all kinds of magical beings - witches, whitelighters, darklighters, warlocks, daemons, wizards, fairies . . . you name it. Everyone put all of their conflicts aside and enjoy themselves at any of the dimension's resorts." 

Nimue added, "That is about right. I felt that the Melora dimension would be the perfect place to hold the party. Considering the guest list.

Jack's eyes narrowed warily. "Guest list?"

"Oh . . . there will be a few members from my order. A wizard or two. I plan to hold the party at the Berisa Resort Hotel." Nimue gave the couple a reassuring smile. "It is quite lovely."

"You need to hold the party for a few guests . . . at a hotel?"

Bloody hell! Nimue sighed. "To be perfectly honest, there will be more than a few guests." She noticed the alarmed expression on the couple's faces. "Oh, but don't worry. I plan to have a variety of guests. My brother and his family will be there. Along with a few members of the Gimle Order, Belthazor's friend - Riggerio, and perhaps a witch or two. Like the Charmed Ones, perhaps? And hopefully Olivia's friend, Miss Green."

Jack and Gweneth McNeill seemed to relax slightly. "Well, I guess I won't mind accepting your invitation." The former turned to his wife. "Gwen?"

"I'm looking forward to seeing the Melora dimension again," Gweneth added.

Nimue smiled. "Good. I'm sure that you'll enjoy yourselves."

Two figures appeared beside the table. "Enjoy what?" Nimue glanced up and met the suspicious eyes of her son. Olivia stood next to him. His eyes still gleaming with suspicion, Belthazor added, "What exactly are you talking about?"

----------------------

Chris orbed into the middle of the manor's Solarium. The two sisters glanced up from the television set. "Well, look who's here," Piper caustically announced. "Have you finally decided to tell us the truth about yourself? And why you're here?"

"I told you everything," the whitelighter protested. "About the fact that Wyatt might be in danger. About me being half-witch and half-whitelighter. About Bianca." His blue eyes reflected momentary pain at his mention of his former lover. "What more do you want?"

Paige replied, "How about who your parents are, and how you became to be half-witch? Or how we're supposed to save Wyatt? Or the fact that you didn't seem that concerned about Cole and Olivia's engagement?"

"My parents are my own concern," Chris shot back. "And as for Cole and Olivia - contrary to what Leo believes, their marriage won't be a future threat. Trust me."

Piper coolly regarded her whitelighter. "Why should we? You've either been lying to us, or trying to manipulate us. Why should we trust anything you say?"

Chris sighed. "Because I can't tell you everything, right now. This isn't the right time."

"When is the right time?" Paige demanded.

The half-whitelighter glanced around. "Where's Phoebe? Out on a date?"

A caustic Piper replied, "Try Hong Kong. She's with Jason Dean."

"What?" Chris looked horrified. "What the hell is she doing in Hong Kong? What about the Power of Three?"

Paige sighed. "We think that Phoebe's personal life is more important than killing demons, right now. Besides, she needed some time alone with Jason."

"But in Hong Kong?"

Piper retorted, "Hey! We had managed to do without the Power of Three, when Paige was in Europe, last summer. We can do it, again. And if we do need extra help, Paige can orb Phoebe back here. Or we can get the McNeills or Cole to help."

But Chris refused to be placated. "Are you serious? What if Phoebe being in Hong Kong and not here, leads to Wyatt . . ." He quickly broke off.

Paige stared at him. "What does Phoebe being in Hong Kong have to do with Wyatt?" Before Chris could answer, the doorbell rang. Paige jumped to her feet. "I'll get it."

Chris turned to Piper. "Listen, this idea of you allowing Phoebe to be in Hong Kong is a mistake."

"Who said that I had . . . allowed Phoebe to be with Jason?" Piper retorted. "She's a grown woman."

An anxious-looking Paige returned, escorting their visitor. Piper took one look at the latter and immediately shot to her feet. "Guess who's joined us for dinner?" the younger woman quipped nervously.

Elizabeth Turner emerged from behind Paige. A polite smile stretched her lips. "Good evening, Miss Halliwell. How are you?"

Piper glared at her sister. "Paige! You let her in?"

"I . . . I mean . . . she . . ." Paige began sheepishly.

Mrs. Turner's smile became tart. "Oh, there's no need for concern, my dear. I'm not here for any nefarious reason. If I were, I would not have used the doorbell."

Keeping her hostility in check, Piper demanded, "Then why are you here?"

Still smiling, the demoness eased herself into one of the wicker chairs. Piper burned inwardly burned at the woman's boldness. "To issue an invitation, Miss Halliwell. For an engagement party I'm hosting, in honor of Bel . . ." She paused, as her gaze fell upon Chris. ". . . in honor of Cole and Olivia." Then, "Do I know you, young man?"

"Uh . . . I don't . . ." Looking insecure, Chris glanced at Piper. "I don't think so. I'm a friend of the family."

Blue eyes continued to bore into the young whiteligher's. "And do you have a name?"

Again, Chris glanced at Piper. "Uh, Chris. Chris Perry."

"Hmm. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Perry." Mrs. Turner returned her attention to the sisters. "As I was saying, I'll be hosting an engagement party for . . . Cole and Olivia. And I'm here to invite you."

The two sisters stared at each other. Should they accept? Paige shrugged her shoulders, as if conveying the message - "Why not?" Then Piper sighed and replied, "We, uh . . . would love . . . to come."

"Excellent!" Mrs. Turner responded with a brilliant smile. "They party will be held on Friday. You can pop up at any time you like."

Paige frowned. "Pop up? To where?"

The demoness hesitated, as her gaze returned to Chris. Piper sighed. "For heaven's sake! He's our whitelighter."

"Oh. I see." Mrs. Turner nodded. "Well then . . . the party will be held at the Berisa Resort Hotel, in the Melora Dimension. Like I said, you can pop in at any time. I'm sure that Miss Matthews will have no trouble in teleporting you." She smiled at Chris. "And Mr. Perry can join you, if he likes."

Looking slightly embarrassed, Chris mumbled, "I don't know . . . I . . . maybe I'll come. I think."

Mrs. Turner stood up. "Well, it's up to you. And I believe it is time for me to depart. I do look forward to seeing all of you. And say hello to Phoebe and young Wyatt, for me. Good evening." She flashed one last smile and shimmered out of the room.

The two Charmed Ones heaved a sigh. Chris regarded them with eyes shining with disbelief . . . and yelled, "Are you two out of your damn minds?"

-------------------- 

Around the same time, the engaged couple returned to Cole's penthouse that he now shared with Olivia. After the Thanksgiving holiday, it had become her permanent residence. Although most of her furnishings had been placed in a storeroom, Cole and Olivia managed to move a few of her belongings into his penthouse - allowing the latter to look more hospitable.

"An engagement party in the Melora Dimension." Cole shook his head. "Why would she hold a party for us, in the first place? I'm not exactly beloved by the demonic community. And I sure as hell don't look forward to a reunion with the Thorn Brotherhood."

Olivia dumped her purse on the coffee table, and sat down on the sofa. "Do you think that one of your former colleagues might want revenge for Raynor's death?"

Cole flopped down on the sofa, next to Olivia, and sighed. "I doubt that any one of them would be able to kill me. At least outright. But any one of them could hurt you. Besides, I'm still wondering why Mother wants to hold a party for us."

"Let's see," Olivia commented sardonically. "You are her only son. And you did tell her about her engagement . . . which she had accepted a lot better than you said she would."

Cole grumbled, "I remember. I also remember that she has plans for a big bash in the Melora Dimension. And my question is - why?"

Olivia grabbed hold of one of Cole's hands. "Maybe she's trying to win back her son. How long have you two been estranged?"

"Since I was fifteen," Cole replied. "Or maybe sixteen. We had a brief reunion back in the late 30s. But I managed to remember why I distrusted her in the first place."

A tight smile stretched Olivia's lips. "Courtesy of Raynor, I'd bet."

Cole shot her a dark look. "What makes you . . . never mind."

"You know, Cole, even if your mom does have another reason to hold this party, I don't think her plans including harming either of us." Olivia shook her head. "I don't know. I just have this feeling. Maybe she wants our help, regarding a certain matter. Or information."

Rolling his eyes in disgust, Cole muttered, "Great! It's nice to know that Mother's 'little' party will be more than just about her son's happiness."

A sigh left Olivia's mouth, as she stood up and shook her head. "You know, I'm beginning to wonder why you had such difficulty in becoming part of the Halliwell family. You have so much in common with them. I'm going to bed." She shot a disappointed look at her fiancé and marched toward the master bedroom, leaving him to ponder her last words.

--------------------------

The warlock stood before Prax, feeling calm and collected. At five-feet eleven, he possessed a lithe and wiry body, dark-brown hair and sharp features. The warlock, otherwise known as Eric Logan, regarded the demon with chilly, gray eyes. "I was told that you wanted to see me."

Prax indicated an empty chair in front of his desk. "Yes. My boss, Mr. Winslow, has a job for you."

"Mr. Winslow?" Logan allowed himself an amused smile. "Is he still using that name?"

The demon glared at his visitor. "Yes. Now . . . he has a job for you. One that promises a very high fee." Prax tossed a thick, yellow envelope to the other side of the desk. "You will find information on the assignment, inside."

Logan grabbed the envelope from the desk and opened it. He removed a brown folder from inside. "What's this?"

"Like I said, information on your next target."

"Oh?" Logan opened the file. Inside laid a photograph of a beautiful, red-haired woman. The warlock whistled. "Not bad! Who is she?"

Prax leaned back into his chair, and locked his fingers together. "Olivia McNeill. She's a witch, who lives here in San Francisco."

A gasp left Logan's mouth. "Are you . . . You want me to kill . . ."

"To kill her, Mr. Logan," Prax coolly replied. "Yes."

Logan stared at the photograph. "But she's a McNeill witch. They're not exactly easy to kill, you know. My old mentor, Morella Walters tried to kill a McNeill witch in Boston, some fifteen years ago. Morella was one of the best assassins around. And she ended up dead, because of that last assignment."

"The McNeills might be difficult to kill, Mr. Logan." Prax leaned forward. "But they can be killed."

As he struggled to maintain his calm, Logan read the file, once more. "Wait a minute! It says here that she's dating Belthazor. Belthazor?"

"Actually Mr. Logan, they're engaged to be married."

At that moment, the warlock wondered if his potential employer had lost his mind. "My God! Even if I do succeed in killing the witch, my hide won't be worth a penny once Belthazor finds out I'm responsible! And he will find out!"

Prax sighed. "I don't see how. You're a shapeshifter. That's why we hired you. If you're in disguise, no one will find out that you were responsible for Miss McNeill's death. And you're one of our best contract assassins. We would never allow you to fall into Belthazor's hands."

"Bullshit! You could have given this job to a demonic assassin." Logan's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why give it to me? A warlock?"

"Like I said, Mr. Logan, you're one of the best." 

Another thought entered Logan's mind. "And you can't afford to have this hit traced to someone from your order. Am I right?"

"Please, Mr. Logan. Try to keep your paranoia in check." Prax hesitated. "I agree that a warlock would be more preferable for this assignment than a daemon. After all, you would be more difficult for Belthazor, his mother or any other daemon to detect. And if you're worried about that traitorous half-demon getting revenge, we're in the process of planning something special for him. Now, inside the folder, you'll also find information we have received from a source."

Logan snickered. "You mean a spy."

Again, Prax sighed. "Whatever. Anyway, our source has given us information on Miss McNeill's whereabouts, this weekend. We have made arrangement for you to meet this . . ." A knowing smile curved Prax's lips. ". . . spy, who will help you reach Miss McNeill's destination." He pressed a button. An attractive female with chestnut hair and a shapely figure entered the office. Prax added, "By the way, Mr. Logan, would you like a drink?"

The warlock smiled at Prax's assistant. "A cup of coffee with sugar only. Thank you." The assistant nodded and left the office. Logan turned to Prax. "How much is the witch's death worth to you?"

One of Prax's eyebrows quirked upward. "I beg your pardon?"

"What will be my fee?" Logan leaned forward. "Considering whom I'm being hired to kill, along with the fact that my life will be in jeopardy if Belthazor ever finds out about me, I will be expecting a rather substantial fee."

Prax smiled. "Oh! May I assume that you have accepted the assignment?"

A sigh left Logan's mouth. "I would like for you to state your fee, first."

After a brief hesitation, Prax answered, "Eight-and-a-half million . . . U.S. dollars."

The moment Logan heard the amount, he realized that he would not being able to resist the assignment. Or its challenge. Again, he sighed. "Then you may assume that I have accepted this assignment. Shall we go over the particulars?" He returned his attention to the file's contents, while Prax resumed his instructions.

END OF ACT I 


	3. Part II

"THE UNINVITED" by RFK

ACT II

The Melora Dimension has served as a sanctuary - a literal 'No Man's Land' - from the numerous conflicts that have flared between various factions in the magical world. Arnen, one of the dukes of the dominion spirit, Usiel, had discovered the lush, green dimension, over four thousand years ago. Following a devastating conflict between two wizard covens, Arnen - with Usiel's permission - decided to transform Melora into a sanctuary where all magical beings - except for deities, who harbored no interest in hobnobbing with non-deities - could find respite from the never-ending battle for power in the universe.

Gweneth McNeill and Cole had revealed all of this to Olivia and the others before the half-demon teleported the entire family to Melora. But what she had learned did not prepare for the other dimension's reality. The redhead had visited her share of other dimensions during her fourteen-and-a-half years as a witch, but none could match the sheer lush and natural beauty of Melora. Aside from the Valinor Dimension.

"Good God!" Bruce exclaimed, as his eyes scanned the surroundings.

Barbara clutched her husband's arm. "No kidding! I can't think of any spot on Earth that looks this beautiful."

Cole replied, "Now you know why the Melora dimension has been so popular with the magical world."

"And no one has tried to take control of it?" Harry asked.

Gweneth commented, "And face the wrath of both Arnen and Usiel? No one dares."

"Where is this Berisa Resort?" Jack asked.

A sheepish expression appeared on Cole's face. "Ooops! I, uh . . . I think I may have teleported us to the wrong spot. Hold on, everyone." Seconds later, the half-demon beamed the McNeill family to the middle of a long driveway that led to a sprawling building. The Berisa Resort Hotel turned out to be a six-story, villa-style building with a red-tile roof with spirals soaring from it. A wide verandah with wicker chairs scattered across it wrapped around the building's ground floor. It reminded Olivia of the Coronado Hotel in San Diego - only larger and with more intricate designs.

"This is it," Cole declared. He led his future wife and in-laws up the driveway and toward the hotel's entrance. Once inside the lobby, Olivia could not help but gasp out loud. She had never seen such sheer elegance and luxury in her life. Certainly not in any of the luxury hotels and resorts she had visited over the years.

Harry exclaimed, "Wow! And I mean wow!"

"You can say that again," Olivia's grandmother commented. "Gwen, why haven't you told us about this place?"

Gweneth shook her head. "Because I haven't thought about it, in nearly forty years. But it certainly brings back memories."

Olivia, Cole and Jack strolled toward the front desk. Behind it stood the hotel clerk, a humanoid male with light blue skin, long earlobes and no hair. The half-demon asked the latter for directions to the location of the Turner party. The clerk's dark eyes blinked. "Turner?" He glanced at a large book in front of him. "I'm sorry sir. There is no Turner party booked for this hotel."

An irritated sigh left Cole's mouth. "Is there a party hosted by Nimue of the Thorn Brotherhood?"

Again, the clerk checked the book. "Ah yes! Yes, there is. The Thorn Order's party is being held in the Leithian Room. Hosted by Nimue."

"That would be it," Cole murmured.

"Hadir!" The clerk summoned a tall, bi-pedal creature with deeper blue skin, two tusk-like ears that flowed from the crown of his head, wide dark eyes and four arms. He wore a uniform similar to that of a bellboy. "We have more visitors for the party in the Leithian Room. Escort them, there."

The creature . . . or Hadir bowed to Cole and the McNeills. "Please follow me," he rumbled in a deep voice. He then led them to their destination - a large, elegant ballroom with a black-and-white marble floor, candlelit chandeliers, and a nymph-shaped fountain surrounded by an ottoman. Water sprouted from the nymph's mouth. "The Leithian Room."

"Bloody hell!" Gweneth murmured. "Remind me to book this place for the next major family occasion."

Cole tipped Hadir with some kind of gold currency and the latter disappeared. At that moment, Nimue made her way toward the newcomers, smiling brightly. "Welcome!" she greeted cheerfully. "I'm so glad that you finally made it. Belthazor." She offered one cheek to her son. Who reluctantly kissed it. "And Olivia." The demoness grabbed hold of her future daughter-in-law's hands. "My dear, you look absolutely lovely."

"Thank you," Olivia replied with a smile. And so do you." She shot a glance at her fiancé, who regarded his mother with slight suspicion. "I see that we're not the first to arrive."

Nimue added, "You're among the early arrivals. Marbus and his family are here." She indicated her brother and his family with a wave of her hand. "Let me introduce you." She led the McNeills over to one of the refreshment tables - and her brother's family. "Marbus, look who's here."

The jovial demon greeted his nephew and the McNeills with his trademark good humor. "Well, it's good to see all of you. Glad you could make it. You remember my wife, Mauve, don't you?" He indicated a tall, dark-haired elegant woman, who stood beside him. Olivia recalled meeting her at one of the McNeills' Sunday brunches, nearly two months ago. Mauve had also joined Marbus at the other engagement party, at the St. Francis Hotel. The demon continued, "And these are my children - Liam and Siobhan."

Liam turned out to be a tall man who strongly resembled his mother. Like her, he possessed sharp, elegant features and very dark hair and eyes. Siobhan, on the other hand, was a married woman with two children. She shared her father and aunt's auburn hair and piercing blue eyes. The same eyes that Cole also possessed. Olivia also noticed that her fiancé's cousin stood an inch shorter than herself.

After all the introductions had been made, Liam said to Olivia, "I must say that it's nice to finally meet you. It was quite a shock to find out that Cole has finally found someone to marry."

"Thanks," Olivia said with a smile. "But I won't exactly be Cole's first wife."

Siobhan's blue eyes widened. "Of course! Frances!"

Cole rolled his eyes and retorted, "You mean, Phoebe." He glared at his uncle. "Marbus!"

"What?" the older demon protested. "I can't help it if I can't remember her name, properly."

Mauve asked, "Is she here? Fra . . . I mean, Phoebe."

"I don't think she's coming," Jack said. His gaze focused upon the ballroom's entrance. "But I believe that her sisters have arrived."

------------------------ 

The two figures teleported in front of the hotel's driveway. One of them - Eric Logan - heaved a sigh. "All right," he said. "Let's get this over with."

His companion gripped his arm. "Wait a minute. How do you plan to get inside? You don't have an invitation."

Logan stared at the demon. "I don't need an invitation. I have you."

"Don't be absurd! I have no intention of introducing you as my personal guest. No one will expect me to show up with a companion. Especially one who's assigned to kill the bride-to-be."

A sigh left the warlock's mouth. "Great! Then it looks as if I'll have to check in as a guest. And join the party later. As a waiter." He shook his head is disgust, as he and his companion strode up the driveway. "I should have never accepted this job," he muttered. "A hit inside the Melora dimension?" He glared at his companion. "Even if I get away with it, sooner or later, Arnen or any of his goons will track me down for violating the dimension's sanction against violence."

"Oh please!" The daemon retorted airily. "The so-called 'sanction against violence' is not the law in this dimension. It's just an idea that everyone pays lip service. Don't worry."

Logan protested, "I should have went after the witch near her home or job! Not here, in Melora."

"Artemus felt that the target would be less on her guard, her in Melora." When Logan failed to respond, his companion expressed impatience. "Listen, if you think you cannot complete this assignment, we'll find someone who can. Like myself."

Logan scoffed at the suggestion. "You may be a daemon, but I am the assassin. Or else Artemus and Prax would have never hired me. Don't worry. I'll do the job."

"Fine," his demonic companion shot back. "Then stop your bitching, so we can get inside." The warlock glared at the daemon and continued toward the hotel.

---------------------- 

Piper felt inclined to pinch herself, as her eyes roamed over the vast ballroom. She had never encountered such beauty, elegance or luxury in her life. Not even in the McNeills' San Mateo home, Castle Dunleith in Scotland, or the Westin St. Francis' Colonial Room. Quite simply, the Melora dimension and the Berisa Resort Hotel had completely blown her mind from the moment she, Paige and Chris had arrived.

"There's something wrong about this place," Chris commented. He glanced uneasily around the room. "It just doesn't seem normal for both good and evil to hang together. Like old war buddies at a reunion."

Piper rolled her eyes. She and Chris sat at one of the tables that surrounded dance floor. "I can't believe I'm hearing this from a half-whitelighter who fell in love with a witch assassin."

"It's not the . . ." Chris broke off and sighed. "Okay, maybe some might consider me falling in love with Bianca as wrong . . ."

"No kidding," Piper murmured. She reached for her glass of champagne. "Look Chris, let's put an end to this conversation, okay? You haven't been honest with us about a lot of things. Especially about you being part witch. By the way, Leo didn't raise a fuss when we mentioned this place. Why should you?"

Chris snorted with derision. "Yeah, like he would know everything."

Perturbed by Chris' continuing hostility toward her former husband, Piper demanded, "What is with you and Leo? Why do you resent him so much?"

A long pause followed before the young whitelighter replied, "Let's just say that our future relationship isn't so hot."

Before Piper could demand a further explanation, Scott Yi appeared at the table with a plate of food. "So, how are you enjoying the Melora dimension?" he asked, before sitting down in an empty chair.

"Great," Piper replied. She frowned. "I didn't see Darryl. Are you the only one from the station who's here?"

Scott replied, "I believe that Darryl did receive an invitation, but I think that he and Sheila were more than satisfied with the party at the St. Francis. If you know what I mean."

Knowing Darryl's anxiety toward all things magical, Piper understood perfectly. She glanced at Scott's plate. "Is that food . . . uh, normal?"

With a shrug, Scott said, "Of course. These are appetizers. Canapés. Smoked Trout, Frittata, Ricotta Cheese and Spinach and little Quiche Lorraine. Haven't you tried anything, yet?"

Piper's stomach growled in reply. "To be honest, I didn't know if I should."

"Go ahead and try it," Scott insisted. "Of course, there are some dishes that aren't from our dimension. But I don't think that will kill you. Trust me."

"Well . . ."

Chris spoke up. "I think Mo . . . uh, Piper and I will eat later."

"Excuse me?" Piper glared at Chris. "Since when did you become my nutritionist? Or babysitter, for that matter?"

The young whitelighter explained, "I just think you should be careful about what you eat in this place."

"Chris, knock it off! You're becoming a bore."

Scott picked up one canapé and commented, "You don't have to worry about this place. Like I said, it's quite safe. Most of the time."

Piper stared at the sorcerer/cop. "I didn't realize that you were familiar with this place."

"Oh sure," Scott replied. "I've known about it, since I was in high school. The Chinese call it Lotus Haven. This is my first visit, here." He sighed. "Just as my uncle had described it."

A figure in dark-blue loomed before the table's three occupants. "Yes, it is quite perfect. Isn't it?" Piper and her companions glanced up at the slim man, who smiled at them. His smile revealed large, white teeth that struck the oldest Halliwell as wolfish. "Hello." His deep gray eyes focused upon Piper. "May I assume that you are one of the Charmed Ones?"

Both Chris and Scott immediately stiffened. Piper maintained her cool and tartly replied, "You may assume. Do I know you?"

The man . . . or whatever he happened to be, threw back his head and laughed. "I'm afraid that we've never met. My name is Guldur, by the way. Emphasis on the last syllable."

"You're a demon," Chris flatly stated.

Guldur stared at the whitelighter. "Why yes, I believe so. Are you, by any chance, a witch? Or a wizard? You look familiar." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Come to think of it, you fit the description of a whitelighter who had been looking for a daemon I know. A daemon named Gith. Poor bastard ended up dead, over a month ago."

For reasons that eluded her, Piper immediately came to her whitelighter's defense. "Actually, my sisters and I were the ones who killed Gith. He was trying to kill us." She gave the demon a challenging stare. "Is that a problem?"

Again, the demon laughed, taking Piper by surprise. "What do you think?" he finally answered, after his laughter had subsided. Then a deadly light gleamed in his eyes. "Twelve years ago, Gith had arranged the death of a close friend of mine. A very close friend. I even hired a zoltar to find Gith, but it seem that you and your sisters got to him, first."

Frowning, Scott said, "So, what you're saying is that . . ."

". . . the Charmed Ones had done me a favor," Guldur smoothly finished. He turned to Piper. "I would give you a reward, but something tells me that you wouldn't accept one from a daemon." Piper's only response came as a weak smile.

Cole appeared at the table, looking handsome in a tailored suit. "Perhaps you should accept that reward, Piper. It's not every day that a daemon as powerful as Guldur would be indebted to a witch."

"Belthazor!" The other demon turned to shake Cole's hands. "Congratulations on your upcoming wedding. I've already met the bride, by the way. Outstanding!"

Cole allowed himself a genuine smile. "Can't argue with you, there. Speaking of Olivia, have you seen her?"

It was Scott who answered, "I last saw her with Bruce and that friend of yours, Nathalie Green. Near the bar."

"Thanks." Before Cole turned away, he said to Guldur, "Since you're here, I can only assume that Lohdon is here, as well."

"Who?" Piper asked.

Guldur replied, "Lohdon. The head of my order."

Cole added, "I had expected to find a few members of the old Thorn Brotherhood, here, but not from the Fornost Order." His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Something tells me that Lohdon's presence has more to do with business than my upcoming wedding."

The other demon's eyes widened with innocence. "Really, Belthazor! How would I know? Lohdon doesn't tell me everything. Besides," his gaze focused past Cole's shoulder, "I believe that Lohdon should be the least of your worries."

"Wha . . .?" Cole's gaze followed Guldur's. His blue eyes grew wide with shock. "What in the hell is she doing here?" he growled.

Piper noticed that Cole was glaring at a curvy, dark-haired female with cat-shaped hazel eyes. Her wardrobe consisted of a tight-fitting dress and heeled sandals. The woman reminded Piper of a second-rate sex symbol from a 1960s "B" movie. "Who is that?" she asked.

Cole replied through clenched teeth, "A nightmare from the past." A scowl now fixed upon his face, he marched away from the table.

"Who is she?" Chris asked Guldur.

The demon sighed. "Oh, some old girlfriend of Belthazor's. Her name is Idril. They were quite an item for a brief period back in the late 60s or early 70s. And I heard that they were seeing each other again, some four or five years ago. As far as Belthazor is concerned, she was a mistake." An amused chuckle escaped his lips. "And it looks like Idril is one that refuses to go away."

END OF ACT II 


	4. Part III

"THE UNINVITED" by RFK

ACT III

Gweneth, Jack and Elise McNeill glanced up from their meals to find Nimue approaching their table with two strangers in tow. "How is everyone?" the demoness greeted warmly. "I hope that you are enjoying yourselves."

The Welsh-born witch returned Nimue's greeting with an equally warm one. "The party is just lovely," she replied. Her eyes focused upon the couple standing behind the demoness. "Are these friends of yours?"

Nimue stepped aside to make introductions. "I would like you all to meet an old friend of mine. Lohdon, who is head of the Fornost Order. And beside him is Miss Adrianne Evans, a friend of his. And a wizard."

"How do you do?" the other daemon greeted. Lohdon looked like a man somewhere in his early to mid forties. Gwen suspected that he might be a lot older - at least between 150 to 200 years. Despite being slightly under six feet tall, he struck a commanding figure with his broad shoulders, light-brown skin, wiry body and dark brown eyes that glowed with authority. "This is Adrianne Evans, a friend of mine."

Lohdon's companion turned out to be a powerful wizard - a lithe blond woman in her thirties with delicate features that any supermodel would envy. She smiled at the McNeills and said, "How do you? Nimue has told us so much about you."

Gweneth recognized the accent, immediately. "You're Welsh, right?"

"Yes. I'm from Holywell," Miss Evans replied.

Nodding, Gweneth said, "Oh yes. Home of the St Winefride's Holy Well. They have a decent football team there, as well." She paused. "I'm from Aberystwyth. Along the coast."

Jack gazed at Lohdon. "I understand that you're head of the Fornost Order? Because that name sounds familiar. Have you ever heard of a demon named Orcus?"

The smile on Lohdon's lips faded. "Yes. He was part of my order. A witch had killed him some 23 years ago. I'm afraid that Orcus tried to interfere with the witch's business." Lohdon's brows rose questioningly. "You?"

"I'm afraid so," Jack coolly replied. "Sorry for your loss."

A smirk twisted Lohdon's mouth . . . and Gweneth relaxed. "Orcus knew what he was getting into. And he paid the price. It's history."

Nimue added, "I must confess that I had invited Lohdon to the party for a reason. To meet all of you. You see . . . Marbus has told me about your encounters with the Magan Corporation, after that little incident between your daughter, myself and Zamora."

Elise frowned. "Olivia and Cole had told us that this Zamora was part of the Khorne Order. Is that what you wanted? Confirmation that it's connected with the Magan Corporation."

Both Nimue and Lohdon exchanged uneasy glances. "Probably," the demoness answered.

"So, you believe as we do," Jack said. "That the corporation's CEO might also be the Khorne Order's leader." He paused. "So, who is the order's present leader?"

Lohdon answered, "As far as I know, Prax. Adrianne," he glanced at his companion, "had confirmed it."

The wizard continued, "At first, I thought it might Loxias. He's an antiquity collector, who's also pretty ruthless. But Artemus, the former leader, had never really fond of him." She glanced around - almost with a desperate air. "Is there a waiter around? I need a drink."

"But what does this have to do with Lohdon?" Gweneth asked. She turned to the demon. "Why are you so interested in the Magan Corporation?"

A sigh left Nimue's mouth, before she answered, "Surely you must have heard rumors about someone planning to become the new Source."

Elise's eyes grew wide with shock. "Now I understand." She stared at Lohdon. "You're planning to become the new Source."

Lohdon frowned. "How did you . . .?"

"I'm a telepath," Elise quickly explained. She frowned. "But we had also heard rumors of more than one faction competing for the Source's throne."

Nimue explained, "You're right. Lohdon does hope to become the new Source. And I'm one of his main supporters. I believe that Lohdon is strong enough to lead the realm into a new era . . . and intelligent enough not to perpetrate some end-of-the-world scheme, like the one that the old Source had planned over three years ago. Or try to destroy the Whitelighters Realm."

Gweneth inhaled sharply. "So, you had heard about that?"

"There wasn't a daemon in existence who didn't," Lohdon commented. "Some were upset that the Whitelighters had been saved. Others, like myself, were relieved. The destruction of the Whitelighters Realm could have upset the balance in the magical world even further."

Nimue added, "And from what I . . . 'we' know about the McNeill family, you also believe that some kind of balance should be . . ." She broke off, as her blue eyes grew wide with shock. "In Caspiel's name!" she hissed. "What the bloody hell is she doing here?" The demoness shot the McNeills a tight smile and murmured, "Excuse me," before she quickly marched toward one of the refreshment tables.

All three McNeills gazed after the obviously angry Nimue. Gweneth saw a dark-haired woman with pale skin and exotic features standing near the same table in the demoness' path. The woman's tight dress accentuated her curves in a very obvious manner. "Who is that woman?" she asked Lohdon and Miss Evans.

The female wizard smirked, as a Melorian waiter appeared before her. "Someone who obviously had not been invited."

--------------

Cole reached the dark-haired woman first and scowled. "Idril! What the hell are you doing here?"

The young demoness graced Cole with a brilliant smile. "Belthazor!" she exclaimed in a bell-like voice. "Is that the way to greet an old beau? I must say that you look as handsome, as ever. How long has it been? Four years? Five?"

"Not long enough, as far as I'm concerned!" the half-demon retorted. "What are you doing here? Did Mother invite you?"

A tinkling laugh escaped from Idril's mouth. Cole had forgotten how much he hated it. Until now. "Not exactly. I . . ."

"I most certainly did not invite her!" Nimue appeared before the pair. She glared at Idril. "My dear Idril, may I ask what you are doing here?" she demanded in a soft, deadly voice.

To Cole's surprise, Idril became slightly anxious. "Nimue, I realize that I had not been issued an invitation . . ."

"No, you were not! I had only invited 'certain' members of the Order. And you do not qualify as one." Nimue's eyes narrowed slightly. "How did you manage to gain entry to this party, without an invitation?"

Idril paled slightly. "I . . . I had used Melkora's invitation."

"You mean to say that you had stolen . . .?"

The younger demoness quickly corrected her superior. "No, no! You see, Melkora is ill." She paused. "For some reason - I think it had something to do with this witch she had to deal with - she became ill. And she asked me to represent the sect for her." The Thorn Brotherhood - now renamed the Thorn Order - happened to be organized into seven different sects. And Melkora led one of them.

"Melkora asked you?" Cole's voice expressed doubt. "Now, why do I have trouble believing that?"

"It's true," Idril insisted. "If you don't believe me, you can ask Melkora, herself." She smiled at the half-demon. "Besides, we're old friends, Belthazor. Surely, there's no harm in me showing up to congratulate you on your upcoming marriage?"

A thin smile stretched Nimue's lips. "Then, please get it over with, so you can leave."

Slightly taken aback by the older demoness' hostility, Idril's face turned pink. Then she smiled at Cole. "Well, Belthazor. Congratulations. I hope that you will be happy."

Realizing that his mother had not arranged for Idril's appearance, Cole smiled back. Politely. "Thank you, Idril. And I'm sorry that you won't be able to stay . . ."

"Oh, a new guest?" a fourth voice asked. Cole's heart beat nervously, as Olivia appeared before them.

The dark-haired demoness appraised the redheaded witch with ruthless eyes. She allowed her chest to thrust out slightly, causing great amusement for Cole. "I'm Idril. And old friend of Belthazor's."

Olivia smiled politely. "And a member of the Thorn Order, no doubt. I'm Olivia McNeill, the bride-to-be. You must be pretty high up in the order, to receive an invitation."

Idril opened her mouth, but Nimue spoke first. "Actually my dear, Idril is representing the head of her sect. Who - for some reason - had fallen ill. Unfortunately, poor Idril cannot stay much longer."

"Too bad," Olivia commented. "Business?"

The dark-haired demoness quickly recovered. "Actually Nimue," she said with a winsome smiled targeted at Cole, "that little business matter has actually been taken care of. So, it looks as if I might be able to stay a little longer."

Olivia nodded. "Good. I hope that you'll enjoy the party."

"Oh, I will." Idril gave a cryptic smile and sauntered away.

Cole glared at his mother. "You're going to allow her to stay?"

"What do you want me to do, Belthazor?" Nimue snapped back. "Kill her in front of the guests? Don't blame me for this mess. Blame Melkora for falling ill. Or better yet, why don't you blame yourself for getting involved with Idril, in the first place? I had warned you to stay away from her, years ago. Now if you will excuse me, I have some guests to attend to." She shook her head in disgust and left.

Olivia murmured, "Oh dear. Did I say something wrong?"

A sigh left Cole's mouth. "No, you didn't. None of us had any idea that Idril would crash the party. Besides . . . I hate to admit this, but Mother might be right. Especially about me getting involved with Idril, in the first place. She never did take our breakup very well."

"I'm trying to figure out what you had seen in her, in the first place," Olivia commented in a dry voice.

An amused smile curved Cole's lips. "I hope you're not jealous."

"More like amazed that you would date someone who looks as if she's straight out of a 60s B-movie." Olivia pecked his cheek. "It's nice to know that your taste in females has improved over the years."

Cole linked her arm through his. "I just had a lapse of judgment when I first met her. I was young. I had an itch. She provided the scratch."

Olivia peered at him. "When did this 'lapse' of judgment first occur?"

"1969."

"At the age of 84?"

Cole shot his fiancée with a quick, dark look. "Eight-four is young for a daemon. Now, c'mon. I need a drink." And he led her toward the refreshment table.

--------------------------

The two Charmed Ones and Barbara McNeill observed the dark-haired demoness mingling among the guests. "So, that's one of Cole's old girlfriends," Paige murmured. "It's a good thing Phoebe never met her. She would have suffered from a massive dose of insecurity. Olivia doesn't seem fazed by her."

"Did you get a good look at her?" Barbara demanded. "Why on earth would Olivia be jealous of her? I know I wouldn't."

Piper added, "There's another reason why Olivia might not be jealous. Cole didn't seem particularly pleased to see his old girlfriend. And neither did his mom. I wonder why she was invited."

Another voice said, "Good question." The three witches glanced up at a tall, elegant woman with aquiline features. She sat down in one of the table's empty chairs.

Piper frowned at the newcomer. "Do we know you?"

"This is Cole's aunt," Barbara answered. "Marbus' wife."

The woman added, "Mauve Farrell." Paige felt a surge of guilt, at the mention of Cole's uncle, recalling how the Charmed Ones nearly killed him. His wife spoke with an Irish lilt. "Now, I do recall meeting . . . Barbara?" The blond witch nodded. Cole's aunt stared thoughtfully at the Charmed Ones. "And you are . . .?"

Paige hesitated, before she answered. "Paige Matthews. And this is my sister, Piper Halliwell."

"Oh! The Charmed Ones!" Mauve frowned. "Shouldn't there be a third sister?"

Piper replied, "She's out of town."

Mauve continued, "Oh yes, Cole's former wife. You know, it's finally nice to meet you. Cole has told us all about you. Including your sister, Frances."

"It's Phoebe," Piper murmured.

"Really? Then why does Marbus keeps calling her Frances?"

Barbara added, "Do you know anything about the dark-haired woman who was with Cole and his mother?"

The female wizard sniffed. "Oh her. Idril. One of Cole's former lovers. Cheap. Even if she is a daemon."

Piper murmured, "Figures. From the Thorne Order, I presume?"

"That's right."

Paige asked, "And you're a member of the Gimle Order, right?"

Mauve shook her head. "Oh no, dear. Not me. I'm a wizard, not a daemon."

"Wizard?" Paige blinked. "I thought that the Source . . ." She paused. "Oh wait a minute. That's not true."

Barbara stared at the younger woman. "What are you talking about?"

A sigh left the wizard's mouth. "I suppose you had been told that the old Source had wiped out all of the wizards."

"Yeah, by a certain wizard named Aman," Paige added.

Mauve explained, "Aman's order had been wiped out by the Source. Good riddance, if you ask me. Trust me, other wizards still survive." She pointed at an elegant-looking blond woman with killer cheekbones and blue eyes. "You see that woman? She's another wizard. Her name is Adrianne Evans. She's also Lohdon's mistress." Her expression hinted slight disapproval.

"Lohdon?" Piper frowned. "Isn't he the head of some demonic order? The Forost . . . or something like that?"

"The Fornost Order," Mauve corrected. "Yes, Lohdon and Mauve have been close since the 1960s."

Paige frowned. "She looks as if she had been born after the 60s."

"Well, of course, my dear. Some wizards have a very long life. A lot longer than other mortals. Including witches." Mauve paused. "I had been born in the 1840s." All three witches stared at the older woman, who looked as if she was in her late forties or early fifties. 

A masculine voice added, "Wizards are masters at prolonging life. Sometimes I wonder if they want to be demons . . . just like us." The owner of the voice sat down in the remaining empty chair. "Mauve. It's been a long time." He was a tall and extremely pale man, who reminded Paige of the HARRY POTTER character, Severus Snape. Only this joker sported a haircut.

The wizard gave the newcomer a cool look. "Ascaroth. Is there a reason you had decided to join us?"

"Actually, I had meant to ask if you had seen Nimue, but I had decided to join in your little conversation." Ascaroth paused. "I assume you were talking about Belthazor and Idril."

Barbara replied, "As a matter of fact, we were. Do you know anything about it?"

"He should," Mauve haughtily replied, "He's Nimue's personal little minion."

The demon shot the wizard a dark look. "I'm Nimue's personal assistant," he said to the witches. "And yes, I do know about them. Belthazor had first dated Idril, nearly forty years ago. In the late 60s. Nimue was against it, of course."

"Why . . . 'of course'?" Paige asked.

Ascaroth replied, "Idril was one of Raynor's protégées. Some say that she was his mistress on-and-off. Raynor wanted them to marriage. Nimue, who resented his influence over Belthazor, was against it. I don't think that Belthazor was really that interested in Idril. But he thought that Nimue was trying to interfere, so he got involved with Idril, anyway." The demon snickered. "Much to his regret."

"Meaning?" Piper demanded.

The demon sighed. "Idril is lovely and quite clever. But she is also shallow. And a bit . . . obvious. She had produced and starred in a series of bad B-movies in the mid 1960s." Ascaroth shivered with distaste. "Quite horrible, my dear. She and Belthazor became involved again . . . just four years ago. But that relationship had lasted even shorter. Unfortunately for poor Idril, she was never really Belthazor's style." He smiled at the witches. "Anything else you want to know?"

Barbara replied, "Yeah. Is there someone planning to become the new Source?"

Ascaroth paled even more. "Excuse me. I believe I see Nimue." He quickly stood up and walked away.

"Now that was interesting," Mauve commented. She glanced at Barbara. "I think you may have stumbled upon something."

The two Charmed Ones exchanged uneasy looks, clearly hoping otherwise. The last thing they wanted to face was a new Source. And the fact that the McNeills might play a part in this possibility made them feel even more uneasy.

-------------------------------

Logan took a deep breath and stood up. He had remained inside his hotel room, long enough. It was time to complete his assignment. The warlock reached inside his pocket and removed a small vial that contained some kind of yellow liquid. It was poison made from the seeds a of a few yew berries. 

Then he slipped out of his room and headed toward the hotel's first floor. Just before he reached the Leithian Room, Logan morphed into one of the hotel's four-armed employees. He strode into the ballroom and headed straight toward the refreshment tables, where another blue creature - one with two arms - awaited him.

"There you are!" the two-armed Melorian demanded. He shoved two trays filled with hors d'oeuvres into two of Logan's hands. "Here! Take them and circulate the room. And next time, don't be late!"

Slightly taken aback by the Melorian's demeanor, Logan merely nodded and mumbled, "Yes sir." With the trays in hand, the warlock merged into the crowd. As he passed out numerous hors d'oeuvres to the guess, Logan realized that not one demon or witch had expressed any suspicion toward him. Or sensed that he was something other than another Melorian waiter. Not even the mighty Belthazor, to whom Logan had served a few hors d'oeuvres.

Realizing that he would be able to circulate among past colleagues and acquaintances without being detected, Logan decided to complete his mission. Just as he turned on his heels to start back, a voice stopped him. "Hold on!" A hand reached for a hors d'oeuvre.

Logan recognized the daemon that had teleported him to this dimension. He smiled. "Are you sure that you want to eat that? I may have saved it for the witch."

The hors d'oeuvre halted less than an inch from his companion's mouth. The daemon quickly dropped it on the tray. "Why haven't you served it to her, yet? You're going the wrong way."

"Because I had planned to poison her in another way," Logan shot back. "When will Belthazor's mother make the announcement?"

The daemon retorted, "What are you talking about?"

"The announcement for the engagement!" Logan sighed. "Haven't you ever attended an engagement party, before?"

"Of course not! Besides, why do you need to know?"

Another frustrated sigh escaped from Logan's mouth. "Because a toast - with champagne - usually follows an engagement announcement. And I plan to make sure that Miss McNeill will drink more than just champagne." Again, he sighed. "Aw, hell! I'll find out from my . . . supervisor. Just be prepared to get me out of here, when I'm ready." Logan walked away before his companion could reply.

-------------------------------

"Excuse me, Nimue."

The demoness, who had been conversing with a guest, turned to face her assistant. "Yes, Ascaroth?"

Her assistant continued, "The champagne has arrived for the toast. When do you plan to make the announcement?"

Nimue graciously excused herself from the guest. She drew Ascaroth away to a private spot. "The announcement? Oh, for Belthazor's engagement. Yes, of course." She stared at the guests, scattered throughout the ballroom. "You can start making arrangements to pass out the champagne, now." Ascaroth nodded and walked away. Nimue sighed and returned to her guests.

----------------------------------

". . . of the strangest experience in my life," Guldur was saying. "Have you ever experienced any of those moments when you honestly believe that you will die, and your life just flashes before your eyes?"

Olivia nodded. She and the daemon sat at one of the near empty tables in the Leithian Room. Guldur happened to be in the middle of a tale about his encounter with a powerful wizard who harbored information needed by the Fornost Order. "I suppose that last task must have been rather difficult," she said, oozing sympathy. "Getting the orb, I mean."

"Actually, it was a chalice," Guldur corrected. "The Delphi Chalice. It had allegedly belonged to the Roman god, Apollo. The chalice - filled with water, of course - not only enabled a person to see the future and the past, but it can also serve as a mirror to alternate dimensions. I had to kill this . . . python in order to . . . grab it." The daemon sighed. "I never thought I would survive. Especially since my electrokinesis and other powers seemed had no effect . . ."

Cole appeared at the table. "Am I interrupting your conversation?" He regarded both Olivia and Guldur with curious eyes. "So Guldur, boring Olivia with another one of your tales about your exploits?"

The other daemon sneered. "Really Belthazor, I had no idea that you regarded my exploits as . . . boring. But then what can I expect from one of the Source's top assassins."

"Don't worry Guldur," Olivia said, smiling at the daemon. "I found your exploits to be very exciting."

Guldur returned her smile. "Thank you, Olivia. It's nice to find someone who is appreciative of my talents." He shot a dark look at Cole and left the table.

Olivia stood up and turned to her fiancé. "By the way, did he really steal this . . . Delphi chalice for some wizard?"

"Guldur had done a lot of things in his time," Cole replied. "That's why he was one of the deadliest daemons before he became Lohdon's assistant."

As she linked arms with Cole, Olivia shot him a knowing smile. "Was that some kind of warning for me to stay away from him?"

Cole sighed. "I wouldn't even bother. I'm sure that you're quite aware of how dangerous he can be. In fact," he paused and stared thoughtfully at his fiancée, "I have this deep suspicion that you wanted to speak to him. Pick his mind, so to speak. Come to think of it, you've been talking to a good number of my former colleagues. And members of the Fornost Order. What exactly are you up to?"

"If you must know, I was curious about what Guldur's boss, your mother and my parents were talking about."

Cole's eyes narrowed. "And?"

Olivia shrugged. "And nothing. He didn't know what they were talking about. However, I did pick up some interesting information about his background and his past. In fact, I haven't even heard of the Delphi Chalice, until today."

A waiter appeared before the couple and literally shoved one end of the tray in Olivia's face. "Champagne? The hostess will be making an announcement, soon."

Glaring at the waiter, Olivia grabbed the nearest glass. "Thanks," she muttered. Cole grabbed another glass. "I think we better make our way toward the front."

As they moved toward the bandstand, the half-demon stared at the Fornost Order's leader, conversing with Bruce and Barbara. "Perhaps Adrianne might know."

"Who?"

A woman's voice added, "I believe that Belthazor was referring to me." The voice's owner, an elegant blond woman appeared before the couple. "Belthazor, congratulations." She offered a hand to Olivia. "It's nice to meet you, Miss McNeill. I'm Adrianne Evans." The woman spoke with a soft Welsh accent, similar to Olivia's mother. "A friend of Lohdon's."

Cole added, "And she's also a wizard."

"Oh. Well, uh . . . my name is Olivia McNeill. Nice to meet you." The witch shook the other woman's hand. "I suppose you might know what my parents were discussing with Nimue and Lohdon?"

Adrianne sighed. "I'm afraid not." She cleared her throat. "Damn this dry throat. I've been drowning myself in liquids of every kind, all day. And no, Lohdon had decided to keep me in the dark, as well." Glancing at Olivia's glass, she asked, "Do you mind if I drink your champagne? I've already drunk all of mine." The wizard grabbed Olivia's glass and consumed the champagne in three swallows. She sighed before remorsefully returning the glass to the witch. "I'm sorry about that, but this dry mouth has been bothering me all day. Perhaps I can find another waiter."

"I see one," Cole said. He summoned another Melorian waiter. Who appeared with a tray with more glasses filled with champagne. Cole handed a glass to each female and took one for him. "If I were you, Adrianne, I would wait for the toast."

The wizard smirked at the half-demon. "Of course. I only hope that Nimue doesn't take long to . . ." She broke off, as her body shuddered violently.

Both Olivia and Cole stared at the female wizard. "Adrianne?" the half-demon began in a concerned voice. "Are you okay?"

More convulsions followed, much to Olivia's consternation. Then the wizard's elegant face turned deadly white. She clutched her chest and shuddered a few more times, before she collapsed upon the floor.

"Good God!" Olivia exclaimed, as she stared at the fallen woman. "What happened? Is she . . .?"

Cole knelt beside the wizard and examined her for a pulse. Grim-faced, he stared up at Olivia and shook his head. "Nothing. No pulse." He sighed. "I'm afraid that she's dead."

END OF CHAPTER III 


	5. Part IV

"THE UNINVITED" by RFK

CHAPTER IV

As Olivia knelt beside Cole and the very dead Adrianne Evans, a crowd had gathered around them. Murmurs and surprised gasps filled the air. Cole said to Olivia, "Looks like she may have been poisoned. I don't recall hearing anything about her suffering from any health problems."

"Then no one can leave the room."

Cole nodded. "Right." He waved his hand in the air for a brief second. When a male voice cried out that he could not leave, Olivia realized that her fiancé had placed a ward or shield around the ballroom to prevent the guests - now murder suspects - from leaving.

Sounds of someone pushing through the crowd followed. Olivia glanced up and saw her grandmother and Lohdon appear before her. The daemon took one glance at the corpse beside Cole and cried out, "Adrianne!" He fell to his knees and drew the dead wizard into his arms. Lohdon glanced up, his eyes expressing grief and rage. "What happened?" he growled.

"Looks like she's dead," Cole quietly answered. "Her face had turned pale, before she started having convulsions. And this happened . . ." He broke off, as his eyes grew wide with shock. "Oh God!" he muttered. Then he stood up and stared at Olivia. "All this happened after she had drunken your champagne."

The hairs on the back of Olivia's neck bristled. Her grandmother looked as alarmed as she felt. The older woman demanded, "Are you saying that someone had poisoned Olivia's drink?"

For a brief second, Lohdon regarded Olivia with suspicion. Which made her feel even more alarmed. "Wait a minute," she protested. "I hope that you're not going to insinuate that I had deliberately . . ."

Lohdon shook his head and took a deep breath. "No, I'm . . . I'm sorry. I don't understand. Why would someone poison your glass, if he or she was trying to kill Adrianne?" He paused and stared at Olivia again. "Hang on. If Adrianne had died after drinking your champagne, that means that someone . . . is trying to kill you."

Olivia stared at the dead woman and her grieving lover on the floor. The implications of Lohdon's words finally struck. "Oh my God," she murmured. "Someone wants me dead." The new glass of champagne slipped from her fingers and hit the floor with a loud tinkle, just inches away from Lohdon and the very dead Adrianne Evans.

------------------ 

"This has never happened at any of our hotels before," the light-blue skinned creature wailed. "Never!"

Nimue rolled her eyes in sheer irritation at the manager's anxiety. "Apparently, Mister Dairon, you have forgotten about Beleriand's death, some two hundred years ago. Death by 'lightning'? Remember?" Another wail left Mr. Dairon's mouth. "Oh for goodness sake, sir! Get a hold of yourself! What do you plan to do about Miss Evans' death?" The demoness, along with her son, his fiancée, Olivia's parents and Lohdon, had met inside Dairon's private office, adjacent to the ballroom.

The hotel's manager, Mister Dairon, helplessly wrung his hands. "What can I do? I've never encountered murder, before. This goes against everything of what the Melora dimension is about. Everyone is supposed to be safe, here!"

"Well, you can start by finding out which of your employees had served that glass of champagne to my daughter, instead of carrying on!" Gweneth McNeill snapped. "Would it really be so difficult for you to summon all of your waiters, inside here?"

Dairon stared at the others with a stupefied expression. "Oh. Of course. If you insist." With a wave of his hand, all twelve waiters - with deep-blue skin, tusk-like ears and four arms - materialized inside the office. Dairon turned to Olivia. "Now miss, do you know which waiter had served the champagne to you?"

Olivia stood in front of the waiters and examined each one. Nimue wondered how the witch would be able to tell the difference. She never could - despite the number of times she had visited this dimension.

Minutes passed before her son's fiancée finally said, "He's not here. The waiter who had given me the drink - he's not here."

"How can you tell?" Belthazor demanded.

Olivia replied, "Simple. The waiter who gave me the champagne didn't have any markings around the area where the ears and the forehead meet." Olivia pointed at the waiters. "They all have markings in those areas."

Nimue regarded her future daughter-in-law with a touch of awe. The young redhead seemed to possess a talent for acute observation that she could only envy. Which would explain how Olivia became a law enforcer, in the first place.

A groan escaped from Jack McNeill's mouth. "I suppose that means that the killer had managed to get away," he commented.

Belthazor shook his head. "Not exactly. I had cast a ward or magical shield around the ballroom. No one should be able to leave. I hope."

"Then all we have to do is find out which guest is our killer," Olivia declared.

The others - Nimue included - stared at the redhead. Mister Dairon expressed what was obviously on the minds of everyone else. "Are you serious?" the Melorian cried out in disbelief. "There are over a seventy guests, here! Almost a hundred!"

Nimue's son shot her a dark look. "Looks like you should have stuck to your plans for that 'little party', Mother."

Ignoring her son, Nimue turned to Olivia. "How do you propose that we find the killer? I already have one suspect. Idril. I do not recall inviting her to this party. Even if she is representing Melkora."

A frown appeared on Olivia's face. "That would mean that Idril is a shape shifter. How else would she be able to disguise herself as one of the waiters?"

"Idril is not a shape shifter," Cole commented in a tart voice. "She can only morph into her demonic form. Too bad, if you want my opinion. I would have no problems with allowing her to take the rap."

Jack added, "It's possible that she had used a glamouring spell." He sighed. "She's this slinky brunette who looks like something out of a 60s beach movie or something, right?" Both Cole and Olivia nodded. "Yeah, I had noticed her talking to Nathalie Green at the time of Miss Evans' death."

Old Mrs. McNeill finally spoke up. "I have an idea. Perhaps this killer was an assassin hired to kill Olivia. An assassin with the ability to shape shift. He . . . or she could be anyone. A daemon or warlock . . . Who knows?" The room fell silent, as the others stared at the elderly witch. She sighed. "I gather no one had considered this. So . . . how do any of you plan to find this person?" The room remained silent. "Anyone?"

---------------------- 

Slowly, Logan eased his way toward the ballroom's nearest exit - hoping that no one would notice his surreptious attempt to escape. When he finally reached a door, he glanced around to see if anyone was watching. Then he turned the knob, opened the door . . . and walked straight into a magical force field. Taken aback by the barrier, Logan quickly gathered his wits and closed the door.

Panic began to overwhelm the warlock. He realized that not only was he trapped without any means of escape, so was his mode of transportation - namely his demonic companion. As if matters could not get any worse, it seemed he had killed the wrong person. A sigh left his mouth. He should have never accepted this assignment.

Logan inhaled several times to steady his nerves. Realizing that he needed a drink, he made his way to one of the refreshment tables. And stumbled across his demonic colleague. "There you are!" he hissed. "Where in the hell have you been? If you hadn't been so damn difficult to find, we could have left this place, a lot sooner!"

"Meaning?" the daemon shot back in an arch voice.

After draining a glass of champagne, the warlock exclaimed in a low voice, "Meaning, I can't get out! Literally! Someone has cast a ward or shield around this place."

His colleague inhaled sharply. "Belthazor! Only he is powerful enough to do this."

"Belthazor?" Logan dumped his champagne glass on the nearby table. "That's just great! How in the fuck are we supposed to get out of here?"

The daemon shot back, "Don't look at me! I'm not the moron who used a fast-acting poison! Nor did I use it on the wrong person!"

"I used poison from a yew berry. It wasn't supposed to work that fast! And how was I supposed to know that the other woman would drink from the witch's glass?"

A derisive snort escaped the daemon's mouth. "That 'other' woman happened to be no other than a wizard named Adrianne Evans. She's Lohdon's whore. I'm sure that you've heard of Lohdon, haven't you? Of the Fornost Order?"

"Oh God!" Logan's stomach began turning somersaults. He had definitely heard of the Fornost Order's ruthless leader.

The daemon heaved a sigh. "Somehow, I don't think that God will be able to help you. Or me, for that matter."

"What the hell are we supposed to do?" Logan demanded anxiously. "Stand around and wait for Belthazor and the others to discover us?"

The daemon glared at the warlock. "Why don't you try remaining calm, for goodness sake? You're supposed to be a top assassin. Try acting like one. Here," the daemon handed Logan another glass of champagne. "Have a drink. Maybe if you're drunk, you'll pass out and no one will notice you."

"Thanks for the advice," Logan retorted with a sneer. He sighed. What the hell! It seemed a lot better than working into a state of panic. Then he guzzled down the champagne in three swallows.

----------------------- 

Cole paused before the doorway, as his eyes scanned the ballroom. Elise McNeill had suggested that she and a few other trustworthy telepaths were used to scan the guests and discover who had poisoned Adrianne Evans. The quietly grieving Lohdon had volunteered one of his minions - also a telepath - to help. At the moment, Cole was in search of Harry.

As he continued to push through the crowd, the half-demon came across two of his former colleagues and Lohdon's assistant, sitting at one of the tables. "What's going on Belthazor?" Guldur demanded. "No one has been able to leave this room for nearly an hour."

Ascaroth added, "Many have already started complaining."

"And no one will leave until we find out who had killed Adrianne Evans," Cole coolly retorted.

A smirk appeared on Idril's lovely face. "My goodness, Belthazor! You almost sound . . . noble in your little pursuit of justice. I think you've been around too many do-gooders in the past few years. Including your fiancée."

Cole responded with a chilly smile. "This has nothing to do with me being noble, Idril. Someone had tried to kill my fiancée. And when I find out who is responsible, he . . . or she will suffer hell twice over." His smile disappeared. "I promise you." To his satisfaction, all three daemons shivered. He then continued, "Besides, both Lohdon and my mother are also anxious to find the killer."

"I can certainly understand Lohdon's desire," Guldur commented. "He and Adrianne have been close for a long time. And since the killer was after Olivia. . ." He hesitated. ". . . well, I wouldn't mind seeing him burn."

Ascaroth added, "I certainly won't mind." The others stared at him. "Witch or not, I . . . rather like Olivia."

Idril rolled her eyes. "All this over a witch! And as for Adrianne - why should Lohdon carry on over another mortal. He can find another lover."

"Adrianne was also a powerful wizard!" Guldur snapped back.

"Apparently, she wasn't that powerful," Idril airily replied. "At least not enough to avoid being poisoned."

Ascaroth gave the daemon a thoughtful stare. "How did you know that Adrianne had been poisoned?"

It was Guldur who answered, "Everyone knows. She had been guzzling down drinks, for the past several hours. And we all saw her drop dead just after she had drank that last glass of champagne."

Cole regarded him through narrowed eyes. "You saw everything?"

"Well, I . . ." Guldur paused momentarily. He shot the half-demon a quick, uneasy smile. "I think I should check with Lohdon. See if he needs anything from me." He stood up and walked away.

Ascaroth also stood up. "And I had better see if Nimue needs anything. Excuse me." He shot a nervous glance at Cole before he quickly scurried away.

Idril regarded Cole with seductive dark eyes. "Well . . . it seems we're finally alone."

"Hmmm, not for long." The half-demon turned away.

The demoness grabbed his arm. "Belthazor! Wait a minute! You're just going to walk away like that? After we haven't laid eyes upon one another for over four years?"

A long-suffering sigh escaped from Cole's mouth. "What do you want, Idril? You want to recapture what we used to have? Because, as I recall, it was nothing more than lust."

"What's wrong with that?" Idril allowed her hand to surreptiously slide up Cole's arm. "After all, we are daemons. And lust or not, what we had together was good." Cole jerked her arm away. She scowled. "I guess that wasn't good enough for you," she added in a sharp voice. "Be careful, Belthazor. You seemed to have forgotten that you are your mother's son. No amount of time spent with witches or any other mortals will ever change that."

Cole shot the demoness a contemptuous glare. "Is that what you think, Idril? That I want to be regarded as a human? That may have been true over a year ago, but I've finally recovered from that nonsense."

Idril jerked Cole close to her, allowing her face to hover inches away from his. The scent of gardenias overwhelmed the half-demon, making him feel slightly nauseous. "You know what I think, Belthazor?" she murmured huskily. "I think that great darkness still resides within you. That same darkness that made you one of the Source's most ruthless killers will never be erased by hanging around humans or marrying witches. Your former wife found that out and I'm certain that your red-haired witch will wake up to that fact, as well."

Her last words produced a smirk on Cole's lips, catching the demoness by surprise. "You're right, Idril. Great darkness still resides within me. And it will always be within me. But if that's all you know about me, then you don't know me at all. Trust me sweetheart, I'm more than just 'great darkness'. My first wife may or may not have understood that, but Olivia does. She accepts me for what and who I am - and not for just a part of me."

Idril opened her mouth. "Well, I . . ."

"And one more thing," Cole interrupted in a low voice. "Don't ever underestimate Olivia. She can be just as ruthless or merciless as I can. And if you ever wrong her, she can be vindictive. I promise you."

The slender hand automatically released its hold of Cole's arm. Disbelief and anxiety whirled in Idril's hazel eyes. Then she composed herself. "Well," she said in a shaky voice, "love must be blind. And I'm afraid that I'm not exactly interested in those who indulge in their delusions. So, if you will excuse me." She flashed Cole a wan smile and quickly moved away.

------------------------ 

A sigh left Paige's mouth, as she watched Chris load his plate with food. "This is a shock," she commented snidely to the young whiteligher. "So, you've finally decided to eat something. May I ask why?"

Chris plucked a red grape from a platter of fruit and popped it into his mouth. "I'm hungry," he finally replied, after swallowing the grape. "And since the rest of you aren't dead or sick from eating this food, I figured that I might as well eat something, myself."

"It's nice to know that we could be your own personal food tasters," Paige retorted. She turned away and her eyes focused upon the guests, inside. The Charmed One noticed that many of them seemed upset, irritated or anxious to leave. The moment Harry had joined her and Chris at the refreshment table, she said, "Have you noticed? Everyone seemed to be getting a bit antsy. I guess the killer hasn't been found, yet?"

Harry shook his head. "Not yet. Everyone wants to leave, but no one can get out." Paige stared at him. "I think that Cole has placed some kind ward or spell around the ballroom, making it impossible for anyone to leave."

"He did this for some wizard, he hardly knew?" Chris exclaimed.

A troubled expression appeared on Harry's face. "There's a rumor going around that it was Olivia's champagne that had been poisoned. And that this Adrianne Evans had drunk it by mistake."

Paige stared at her boyfriend in shock. "Oh my God! Are you saying that someone is trying to kill Olivia?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. Looks like it. If so, I have one suspect."

"Cole's old girlfriend?" Paige suggested.

A doubtful Chris added, "Wouldn't that be a little obvious? I mean, Piper told me that she hadn't even been invited. If she wanted Olivia dead, wouldn't she automatically become the first suspect?" He glanced at the dance floor and frowned. Paige followed his glance. Among the couples dancing were Piper and Scott. "Don't you guys think those two are getting a bit too chummy?"

"They're just dancing," Paige said dismissively. "What's the big deal?"

"What about Leo?"

Harry stared at the whitelighter. "You're concerned about Piper and Leo? You? You can't even stand him."

A sigh left Chris' mouth. "Look, I know how I feel about Leo, but . . ." He shook his head. "Never mind."

"Never mind . . . what?" Paige demanded. "Why do you always do that? Cut off, when you're about to say something?"

"As a time traveler, I have to be careful about what I say," Chris retorted. "And when."

Paige shot back, "Then why don't you tell us why you're really here in the past? And what you know."

"Are you two going to keep us this fight?" Harry asked in a slightly amused voice. "Everyone is . . ." He paused, as a pale-looking man passed by. He frowned at the man. So did Paige, for she felt the hair on the back of her neck rise.

Chris regarded the couple with perplexed eyes. "Hey guys, something wrong?"

"There's something odd about that guy," Paige commented. "The tall one in the dark blue suit. I don't know. I just can't place my finger on it."

Harry's eyes remained fixed upon the stranger. "I know what's wrong," he added grimly. "I think we've just found our killer."

"Huh?" Chris' eyes blinked. "What makes you think that guy was the one . . .?"

"Hel-lo? Telepath here." Harry paused. "I heard his thoughts. He's the killer, all right." He started toward the stranger.

Both Paige and Chris followed. The trio followed the man, until he paused and leaned against a Corinthian column. "You know, he doesn't look that hot," Chris commented.

"Yeah, he does look a bit peaked," Paige added, as she observed the man's drawn expression. "If he's the killer, how do we take him?"

Chris replied, "Just grab him. He doesn't look as if he can fight back." The whitelighter deposited his plate of food on a nearby table.

Paige grabbed hold of Chris' arm. "Hold on, my young padawan! That guy might not seem healthy at the moment, but he still might be able to tap into the Dark Side."

"Then, how do we grab him?"

Harry straightened up. "Leave it to me." He cleared his throat and casually sauntered over to the man in question. Adopting a concerned manner, he placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "Excuse me, sir." The man nearly jumped out of his skin. "Pardon me, but are you okay? You seem unwell. Do you want me to help you to a seat?"

The man stared at Harry, before he shrugged away the witch's hand. "No . . . uh, that's okay. I'm . . ." He broke off with a gasp, as Harry applied quick pressure to his shoulder. He crumpled to the floor. Seconds later, his face transformed into another identity.

"What do you know? This guy is a shape shifter." Harry said in a loud voice. He turned to Chris. "Hey, help me pick him up."

The whitelighter ignored the stares from other guests and rushed forward to help Harry. "I didn't realize you knew anything about the Vulcan nerve pinch," he said. "Good idea."

Cole appeared beside Paige and glanced down at the three men. "My compliments, exactly. What's going on?"

While he and Chris lifted the man from the floor, Harry replied, "I believe we've found the guy who tried to kill Livy and who had killed that wizard. I overheard his thoughts, when he walked by."

The half-demon bent over to examine the unconscious man's face. "Good God!" he exclaimed. "I haven't laid eyes upon this guy in years."

"Who is he?" Paige asked.

"A warlock named Eric Logan." Cole added, "He's been a top-notch free-lancer in the magical world for over a decade."

Chris frowned. "Free-lancer? As what?"

Cole turned to the whitelighter. "As an assassin. Which means . . ."

Harry finished, "Which means that since it's obvious that we've got our guy, you can now remove the ward or spell you have around this room. Don't look now, but I think the folks here are getting a little antsy."

---------------------------- 

Low voices buzzed in the back of Logan's mind. He struggled to open his eyes, but his eyelids refused to budge. Just as he was about to give up, he felt a sharp pain against his cheek. "What the . . .?" His eyes snapped open, and he found hostile faces looking down at him. The warlock quickly sat up.

"Logan," Belthazor coolly declared. "I see that you're finally conscious."

The warlock blinked. Why did he feel so strangely numb? "Wha . . . what happened?" he asked in a groggy voice.

"You've finally been caught!" growled a light-brown skinned man, who glared at Logan with murderous eyes. "Not long after you had killed Adrianne."

Oh shit! Logan realized that he was facing Lohdon. "Look, I didn't . . . I didn't realize she would . . ." The warlock immediately clamped his mouth shut. What the hell was wrong with him? It seemed as if his brain had suffered a relapse. And why did his heart feel so tight?

A small, fireball materialized above the brown-skinned man's open palm. "So, you're admitting that you were the one who had killed Adrianne? Why? Why did you do it?"

"I didn't mean to kill . . ." Desperate, Logan turned to the half-demon. "Belthazor! Please! Are you going to just stand there and let him kill me?" Then Logan spotted a middle-aged couple. When he saw that the woman resembled an older version of Olivia McNeill, he realized that he was facing the witch's parents - Jack and Gweneth McNeill "You're witches, aren't you?" he pleaded. "Please don't let Lohdon ki-kill me!"

Jack McNeill coolly shrugged his shoulders. "Why not?" He then regarded Logan with cold eyes. "You were trying to kill my daughter."

"Look, I . . ." Again, Logan stopped in mid-sentence.

Belthazor leaned forward and regarded the warlock with dangerously narrowed eyes. "You what? Who hired you to kill Olivia, Eric? I promise you that your death will be a lot less painful than what your employers might inflict upon you. Or Lohdon."

"I . . ." Logan began. "It was the Magan Corporation! It . . ." The warlock suddenly found himself unable to talk. Not because he felt obliged to keep his employer's identity a secret. For some odd reason, nearly every nerve in his body had slowly become numb. And this had all started after he had . . . Shit! His throat constricted and his body began to convulse. "Oh God! Oh . . ." The convulsions grew stronger.

"What the hell?" he overheard Olivia McNeill exclaimed. "What's happening to him?"

Son-of-a-bitch! Logan realized that first or second glass of champagne he had swallowed, must have been poisoned. Goddamit! He opened his mouth in a desperate attempt to confess. "Ma . . . magan . . . Cor . . . run by . . ." he stuttered between labored breaths. Then his body violently convulsed one last time before everything went black.

END OF PART IV 


	6. Epilogue

"THE UNINVITED" by RFK

EPILOGUE

The occupants inside Mister Dairon's office looked upon the dead warlock with shock and horror. Nearly a minute had passed before Olivia broke the silence. "Well," she commented, "that was disappointing. Now, we'll never know who had hired him."

"We know that the Magan Corporation had hired him," Cole grimly stated. "I should have known."

Gweneth shook her head, "Yes, but who's behind the Magan Corporation? We still don't know. Unless it's this daemon named Prax." She turned to Nimue. "Is this Logan fellow associated with any particular demonic group? Like the Khorne Order? Or how about a warlock coven?"

"I really don't know," Nimue replied. "I've never heard of him, until today. As for Prax being the head of the Magan Corporation . . ." She shook her head. "He does not have the ambition or imagination to attempt something like the destruction of the Whitelighter Realm."

Cole spoke up. "I recognized Eric Logan. And no, he didn't have any close association with a demonic order or a coven. In fact, the only person he was associated with was another warlock named Doris Meade. Only some witch had killed her fifteen or twenty years ago."

An angry roar erupted from Lohdon's mouth. Before anyone could do or say anything, the daemon released a stream of fire and incinerated the warlock's corpse. "I want revenge!" he cried out loud. "I swear in Caim's name that I'll find the bastard who hired this Logan and kill him! Slowly!"

"Patience Lohdon," Nimue coolly replied. "You'll have your chance for revenge."

Jack added, "She's right. It's clear that the Magan Corporation's CEO is after the Source's throne. And since you're after it, as well . . . sooner or later, the two of you will meet."

Both Olivia and Cole stared at the former's father. "Say that again, Dad?" the young witch demanded.

The McNeill patriarch opened his mouth . . . and closed it. He had obviously revealed some kind of secret.

Cole frowned at Lohdon. "You plan to become the new Source?" When the other demon failed to answer, Cole turned to his mother. "So, that's why you had this party. You wanted an opportunity to introduce Lohdon to Olivia's parents. The question is - why?"

"This party was for you and Olivia," Nimue replied tartly. "When Lohdon had found out about it, he asked me to invite me. He wanted to meet Jack and Gweneth, in order to obtain information on the Magan Corporation."

Gweneth added, "She's telling the truth, Cole. And you know that Jack, Elise and I never really had a problem with the idea of a new Source. One is needed to bring some kind of balance in the magical world."

"And someone like Lohdon would fit the bill. Someone who won't be inclined to do something extreme like . . . destroy the Whitelighter realm." Cole nodded. "I understand. But what I don't understand is why Edward Winslow - or whatever his name is - would want Olivia dead? And who told him and Logan about this party? And who killed Logan?"

Nimue demanded, "What are you saying?"

"Isn't it obvious, Mother?" Cole replied. "Either you or Lohdon . . . have a spy in your midst."

-----------------

The two Charmed Ones and their whitelighter found Leo and Wyatt inside the Solarium, upon their return to the manor. The young Elder sat in a wicker chair, rocking his sleeping son, in his arms. Leo glanced up at the trio and frowned. "Back so soon?"

"Soon?" Piper shot back. "We've been gone for at least eight hours or so. It must be . . ." she glanced at her watch and gasped. "It's only six thirty-three!"

Paige added, "Hey, that's only two-and-a-half hours, since we left."

"Time must move pretty fast in the Melora Dimension," Chris commented. "Which is odd, considering that it moves a lot slower in the Whitelighter Realm."

Leo stood up. "You know, I had forgotten about the Melora Dimension. I've visited the place, a few times, myself. It was great." He handed Wyatt over to Piper. Who sat down on the sofa. "So, how was the party?"

Paige quickly replied, "Great! The food was great. So was the food. Unfortunately . . ."

Chris added, "Unfortunately, the party became ruined when some unknown person or being killed a wizard with poison."

"What?" Leo stared at his young colleague. "There was a murder in the Melora Dimension? That hasn't happened in nearly two hundred years. What happened?"

A sigh left Piper's mouth. "It's like what Chris had said. Some female wizard had been poisoned." She paused dramatically. "After she had drank from Olivia's glass of champagne. It seemed some warlock in disguise tried to kill Olivia."

"An assassin," Paige added. "Harry caught him. But . . ."

Chris finished, ". . . someone had poisoned the warlock. And he died before he could reveal anything - other than the Magan Corporation was behind the whole thing."

Leo frowned. "The Magan Corporation? Them again. I don't understand. Why would they be after Olivia?" He stared at Chris. "You're from the future. You must know something."

"Sorry, but I don't!" Chris retorted. "In fact, I've never even heard of the Magan Corporation, until I came here to the past." Then he murmured under his breath, "I wonder if they're the ones . . ." 

Paige demanded sharply, "The ones who what?"

Chris glanced up, as if he realized that he had not spoken softly enough. "Uh, nothing."

"Oh c'mon!" Paige exclaimed with a long-suffering sigh. "Not again!"

Piper stared pointedly at the whitelighter. "Chris? The ones who what?"

Chris' face turned red. He quickly mumbled, "The ones who . . . uh . . . will try to re-organize the Underworld."

"Try? You mean we had stopped them?"

Instead of answering Piper's question, Chris glanced at his watch. "Oh, I better get going. See you guys."

Piper cried out, "Chris!" But the young whitelighter had made his escape before anyone could stop him.

-----------

Several hours later found Cole and Olivia inside the penthouse's master bedroom. While Cole changed into his sleeping clothes, Olivia laid on the bed, scribbling in her notebook. "What are you doing?" Cole asked, as he donned a light-blue T-shirt.

Olivia continued to write in the notebook. "Writing down a few notes for my Book of Shadows."

"Book of . . .?" Cole shook his head and smiled wryly. "I should have known. No wonder you were being so friendly to many of the daemons at the party. Trying to worm a few secrets on the demonic world? You could have just asked me." He slid into the bed.

Olivia pecked her fiancé's cheek. "No offense honey, but I'm afraid that you don't know everything."

"Oh really?"

Green eyes settled upon Cole's face. "Well, did you know about Guldur grabbing a special chalice from the Delphi Temple for some wizard?"

Cole sighed. "Okay, you got me there. It's too bad that we still don't know who's the CEO of the Magan Corporation." He paused. "Or why he wants you dead."

"I wish I knew. I mean . . . why me?"

After Olivia had tossed her notebook on the nightstand, Cole drew her into his arms. "Well, you are the Aingeal Staff Bearer. Which makes you very dangerous to him. Even if he does become the Source."

"You're just as dangerous to him," Olivia reminded the half-demon. "And the Halliwells. So, why send an assassin after me?"

All Cole could do was give his fiancée a tight hug. Especially since he had no answer for her question.

-------------------

Artemus examined his Atropa Belladonna plant and spotted a small brown insect crawling along one wide, green leaf. He immediately picked up the bug with his thumb and forefinger and squashed it. At that moment, Prax entered the greenhouse. "Pardon me, sir. You have a visitor. In the Magneta Room."

A sigh left Artemus' mouth. "Thank you, Prax. Send Ameddo in there, as well for a few drinks. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Yes sir." Prax paused at the door. "By the way, Artemus. I haven't heard from Mr. Logan. I can only assume that the visit is about him."

"Thank you, Prax." After his assistant had left, Artemus removed his smock and washed his hands. Then he teleported out of the greenhouse and into one of the manor's elegant drawing-room. The vivid coloring of the room's draperies and wallpaper had led the daemon to name it the Magneta Room. Inside, he found his guest sitting on the sofa with a glass of martini and looking very anxious. "Judging from your expression and Prax's announcement that Mr. Logan is missing, I can only assume that everything did not go as planned."

Idril placed her glass on the table before her, and regarded her benefactor with fearful eyes. "I'm afraid not, Artemus. Mr. Logan had . . . fed the poison to the witch's drink, as planned. Only . . ."

"Yes?" Artemus headed for the liquor cabinet, where he found a glass of bourbon that had been prepared for him by his manservant. He picked up the drink and headed for his favorite leather chair. "Only what?" He regarded the young demoness with an intense stare.

Squirming slightly, Idril continued, "Someone else had ended up drinking the poison. Adrianne Evans."

Mention of the well-known wizard caught Artemus by surprise. "Adrianne? What was she doing at Belthazor's engagement party?" An unpleasant thought came to the daemon. "Was Lohdon there, by any chance?"

Idril nodded unhappily. "Along with several members of the Fornost Order. I saw Lohdon and Adrianne talking with Nimue and the witch's parents. They seemed very chummy."

"I see." Artemus' stomach began turning flips. He had long harbored a deep suspicion that Nimue might try to assume the Source's throne. He had no idea that she had managed to recruit support from Lohdon, of all people. Both daemons, along with Artemus, were heads of at least three of the five most powerful demonic orders within the old Source's realm. If Nimue had managed to recruit Lohdon's support, all she needed was support from the remaining two top demonic orders. Unfortunately for Artemus, he had only managed to recruit support from minor demonic factions, but no one from the Big Five. And to make matters worse, Olivia McNeill remains alive and her family, involved with both Nimue and Lohdon. Artemus asked his guest, "And what happened to Mr. Logan?"

Idril sipped her drink. "He's dead. Belthazor had cast a magical shield around the ballroom at the Berisa Resort, preventing anyone from leaving. I'm afraid that this made Mr. Logan . . . rather anxious. So, I felt it was necessary to make sure that he would never reveal anything. It's a good thing I had poisoned his drink. Ms. McNeill's brother had caught on to Mr. Logan and turned him over to Belthazor."

"Are you sure that Mr. Logan is dead?"

A smug smile curved Idril's lips. "Oh yes. I had peeked into the hotel manager's office. He died just before he had the chance to reveal anything. Although I do believe that Belthazor and the others are suspicious of your company."

Artemus dismissed Idril's last sentence with a shrug. "They've been suspicious of the Magan Corporation since last summer." He gave the demoness an appraising stare. "Perhaps I should have allowed you to take care of Ms. McNeill."

"I don't think that would have been a good idea," Idril commented. "I had already taken a chance at appearing at the party with Melkora's invitation, in the first place. And I suspect that both Belthazor and Nimue were suspicious of me." She paused. "Do you, uh . . . still plan to get rid of Belthazor's witch?"

"I have no choice. Now that I know that she and her parents are involved with both Nimue and Lohdon, the prospects of Tiresias' prophecy about the Source's throne seem more certain than ever."

Idril added, "And Belthazor?"

Artemus stared at the demoness. There seemed to be a catch in her voice. "Well, he has to die, of course. He's the main threat. I wish I could kill him first, but . . ." He sighed. "Belthazor might prove to be a bit more difficult. I have asked an alchemist to find out how the Crozats came so close to killing Belthazor, last year." He gave Idril a thoughtful stare. "Does the idea of Belthazor's death upset you?"

"Why should it?" Idril turned her attention to her drink.

The older demon continued, "Because you seem slightly upset, my dear. And I do recall you being quite fond of him. I would hate for your feelings to interfere in this opportunity."

Idril snorted with derision. "I'm a daemon, Artemus. We don't fall in love."

Artemus regarded the younger daemon with pitying eyes. "You still view that nonsense about our inability to love as fact? My dear Idril, that was nothing more than propaganda perpetrated by the former Source in an attempt to hide the fact that he had fallen in love, centuries ago." Idril's eyes widen in shock. "Oh yes? You didn't know? My former mentor had told me. Before he had become the Source, he had fallen in love with this female sorceress. A human. She spurned him and he ended up developing a deep hatred for all humans. Personally, I believe he had drummed up that silly nonsense to hide the fact that he had once experienced love. And I believe that he had considered himself immune to the emotion . . . until Belthazor's feelings for one of the Charmed Ones had affected him."

"But Raynor had . . ."

"My dear, if there are daemons who are definitely not evil - like those of the Gimle Order - then we are most definitely capable of love." Artemus paused. "I've been in love. Once. It did not work out. But I survived. I have no problem with falling in love . . . as long as you don't allow your emotions to cloud your judgment or get in the way of business."

Again, Idril took another sip. "I see."

Artemus stared at her. "You're not in love with Belthazor, are you?"

Mirthless laughter rose from Idril's throat. "Of course not. Granted, I still find him very attractive. I can't deny that. But the closest I've ever been in . . . love, as you say, was probably with Raynor." She added before taking another sip, "And not that much. Business always comes first with me."

Again, Artemus stared at the demoness. A small worm of doubt wiggled within him - despite her air of sincerity. He only hoped that he had not made a mistake by including her in his plans to assume control of the Source's Realm. Perhaps he should keep a close eye on her. Satisfied with his decision, Artemus took a deep breath and finished his drink.

THE END 


End file.
